Strange Bedfellows
by whowhatsitwhich
Summary: It was time to play his ace in the hole. Dwight breathed in deep and exhaled slowly, stepping in close so that Daryl would hear each and every word. "He'll figure it out eventually. He always does. Tell me, Daryl, does the name Carol mean anything to you? Is that one you want Negan to hear?"
1. Chapter 1

The prisoner was on his knees, his eyes ringed in black and his skin ghost pale where it wasn't swathed in bruises. He eyed the plate with tired interest but made no move to take it despite his hollow cheeks. Dwight was well aware of how long it had been since the man had eaten a decent meal. He'd stood guard while Negan conducted his 'interrogations'. A dog food sandwich wasn't a filling meal, especially when you puked it up shortly after eating thanks to repeated kicks to the ribs.

His eyes didn't leave Daryl's as he took a bite of the sandwich and then a spoon full of soup. The glass of water, he left untouched. Negan watered his prisoners frequently. Dehydration was a hell of a lot harder to treat than hunger since IVs weren't exactly thick on the ground.

"I need your help." He didn't miss the derisive snort; in fact, he was glad to see it because it meant Daryl wasn't broken yet. "We're a lot alike, you and me. He'll see that eventually and then he'll know. That's how he works. He finds your weakness and he uses them against you. He'll find all your buttons and he'll push them. He gets off on it." Dwight nudged the plate closer, watching how those hooded blue eyes followed it.

"He took my wife and called her his. Did this to my face when I tried to see her. He laughed when he told me the only reason I was still alive was because she was such a good fuck. Gave him the best ride of his life." Fists clenched tightly at his sides as he remembered. "What would you do to keep the one you love safe? Would you kneel, Daryl? Would you take orders and bide your time until the chance came to get out ahead?"

"Ain't the same."

It was the first response from the man, a tiny chink in his armor, and it gave Dwight the opening he needed. "I can get you out, not back to your people but with a group that might help us get rid of the fucker. Alexandria can't fight him alone. Neither can Hilltop. They need more men, more supplies. They'll get both from the Kingdom but we'll have to convince Ezekiel to join us."

"Us? There ain't no us. You think I'm stupid enough to believe a word you say."

It was time to play his ace in the hole. Dwight breathed in deep and exhaled slowly, stepping in close so that Daryl would hear each and every word. "He'll figure it out eventually. He always does. Tell me, Daryl, does the name Carol mean anything to you? Is that one you want Negan to hear?" He was rewarded when Daryl rose up on his knees, blue eyes burning beneath his fringe, stopped only by the short length of chain securing him to the wall.

"I've seen her, talked to her. Made a deal…your safety in exchange for her help recruiting Ezekiel." Dwight shrugged noncommittally. "They way I see it, this can go one of two ways. I get you out of here and on your way to the Kingdom. You and your Carol will help me kill the fucker before he kills us all. Or I give Negan a hint as to how he can keep his new toy in line. It's your call, man. Make it."

Daryl settled back on his heels and bowed his head, the chain clinking softly on the concrete floor as he shifted until he could reach the plate. He never said a word as he slowly ate the sandwich and took tiny sips of the lukewarm soup. Dwight knew then that he'd won; that he had an ally, however unwilling, in his shadow war against Negan. Like it or not, the dye was cast and the game begun. They'd declared war on Negan and the only way to win was to go all in. And they had to win. No matter what they had to do or what it cost. They had no other choice.


	2. Chapter 2

_Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.~The Tempest, Shakespeare._

They left the bike outside the gates when they escorted him in, bruised and blood smeared from fighting his way through a herd and a Saviors patrol. Luckily for him, none were left standing that could give him away. Coming here was a foolhardy proposition but it was a chance he had to take.

His barely healed burns were sore and tight. Despite the doc's assurance the he might regain some sensation, part of his face stayed stubbornly numb. He was a monster and every time she saw him, Sherry was the one whose gaze dropped first, like she couldn't bear the sight of him. Well, she'd made her choice and he had made his. That psycho son of a bitch was going to die one way or another.

Acid burned his guts to cinders every time he knelt and bowed his head. It was all for show but none of that mattered when the fucker stood before him with that damned bat resting on his shoulder, smirking like he owned the world and bragging about how he was gonna fuck Sherry six ways from Sunday. Negan would die and it would be Dwight's finger on the trigger that did it. That was a promise he'd made to himself and he was going to keep it. To do that, he needed allies. That's what brought him to the Kingdom.

"He'll see you in the throne room," the guard informed him. "Try anything and it will be the last thing you ever do, my friend. Please don't make it necessary for us to kill you. King Ezekiel abhors bloodshed inside his walls."

Once he nodded, they released his arms and gave him a canteen to slate his thirst and a rag to wash the worst of the grime from his face. Dwight shook his head when they inquired if he needed food or a place to rest before his audience. "No, none of that," he insisted. "Look, I don't have a lot of time. If Negan realizes I'm not dead, he'll come looking. Believe me, none of us wants that."

The amphitheater that served Ezekiel as a throne room was well suited to the title. Tall, stained glass windows let in ample light and made jewel toned patterns on the dark wood floor. The same wood made up the stage and the throne sitting on it. What caught and held Dwight's eye was the large cat sprawled out in a lazy curl beside the throne. Golden eyes studied him unblinking and razor claws flickered as the giant paws flexed. A tiger! Holy fuck!

"Don't be afraid," came a resonant, deep voice full of reassurance. "This is Shiva, my companion and my friend. She won't harm you. Please. Make yourself comfortable. My men tell me that you've had a difficult journey. Is there anything you require? Food? Medical attention? A place to rest? Make it known and I will see it done if it is within my power."

Again, Dwight shook his head but he did sink gratefully into one of the well padded chairs that was offered. He noticed others standing well back from the stage…one a solemn faced man with serious brown eyes holding some sort of walking staff loosely in one hand. The other was a petite woman with short gray hair and sky blue eyes. Her measuring stare reminded him a bit of the tiger sprawled out on the stage.

"You know where I'm from," Dwight said without preamble. "And who I work for."

Ezekiel threw back his head and laughed uproariously. Beside him, Shiva climbed to her feet began to pace back and forth before the throne, her long tail swishing angrily with each pass. "I aware of your affiliation," he said once his laughter wound down. "I had thought it was the practice of the Saviors to show overwhelming force when coming to a community for the first time. Are you so fearsome that you think you can come alone and unarmed to my gates and demand tribute?" Ezekiel rested his chin on his upturned palm and then gave Dwight a sad look. "I'm afraid that you will be disappointed, my friend. We will not kneel to your tin god nor tremble at his name. Not today. Not ever. And should you think beating one of my subjects to death will change our mind, know that justice will be swiftly meted out. Is your life worth so little that you throw it away on the whims of a mad man?"

"He has my wife," Dwight's eyes rounded as the revelation left his lips. He sagged in his chair, his fingers clawing the smooth material. "We tried to get away…me, my wife, Sherry and Tina. Tina died and we got pulled back into the shithole." He pointed to his scarred cheek. "I lost my wife and got this for my trouble. Demand tribute? No. That's the last thing I want." He dropped his chin into his chest and closed his eyes, taking deep, steadying breaths. When he opened them, Ezekiel had left his throne and stood a short distance away, studying him with sympathetic eyes. "I want him to pay for what he's me kill him. When he's dead, I'll take over the Saviors. We'll leave you in peace. I know how he works, how he thinks. He'll never know that I'm turning coat until it's too late. I swear."

Taking one of the chairs, Ezekiel motioned for the man and woman to join them. The man, Morgan, came forward willingly enough and sat down beside the king, resting his staff beside him on the floor. The woman approached more slowly, her eyes never straying from Dwight as she drew closer. He was shocked by the spark of recognition in her eyes. Those blue eyes fell away from his face to the vest he wore and her jaw tightened. Quick as a snake and in spite of a telltale limp, she snatched up Morgan's staff and ducked behind Dwight's chair, placing the sturdy can across his throat. The high-backed chair gave her leverage and she used it to full advantage, one knee lifted to brace against the seat as she choked him. Neither Morgan nor Ezekiel lifted a hand to stop her.

"You came here on a bike," she hissed in his ear. "And I'll wager that vest you're wearing has angel wings on the back. Is he dead? For your sake, I hope not. Cause if he is, you won't walk out of here no matter how much the king over there dislikes violence."

"Carol, don't." Morgan ordered. "You don't have to kill him. There are other ways. Better ways."

She wasn't convinced if the way the stick dug deeper into his throat was anything to go by. He couldn't break her hold, no matter how he twisted. She had him pinned at just the right angle to render any movement useless. But there was one thing he could use, one way to make sure he didn't die here. Dwight turned his head until he could see those icy blue eyes. "He's alive. Negan has him. He took him after, insurance to keep Rick in line."

"After what?" She demanded in a furious whisper. "What did you do?"

Dwight hesitated, taken aback by the sheer fury in her face. This woman would kill him without a second thought. "Ezekiel told you what we do. He takes one as a demonstration and a warning. Bashes their skull in with a baseball bat he calls Lucille. It's an effective deterrent. Your group was a special case, Alexandria. You stirred up a hornet's nest by killing those men at the outpost and then later at the slaughter house. Negan couldn't let that stand. The price had to be paid."

"Who was it?" Fear laced the fury in her voice.

"Big red head called Abraham. It would have stopped there had Daryl not lost his shit. He made a move on Negan but I shut that shit down. The big man decided that the lesson hadn't been learned well enough so he took the Asian kid's head too. Didn't have no trouble after that."

"Glenn's dead." Fat tears flooded her eyes but she refused to let them fall. The staff tightened on his throat until he was gasping, the world going black and fuzzy at the edges. "And Daryl's a prisoner and here you are, begging to be trusted and for help because he took your wife."

"I can save him," Dwight wheezed, pained tears streaming down his face as he fought for breath. "Help me and I'll get him out. I'll bring him here. I promise."

"Your promises mean shit to me," Carol growled. "Tell me why I should believe one damned word you say."

"Because I love my wife as much as you love him," Dwight panted. "I love her and I'll do anything to keep her safe. Anything."

The staff loosened and then fell away as she straightened. She dropped it at her feet as she buried her face in her hands, muffling the painful sounds of her crying. Morgan went to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, whispering that everything would be okay. Surprisingly, she allowed it.

Ezekiel watched the pair and then brought his gaze back to Dwight. "Many will perish in this fight. It will take everything we have to depose Negan and defeat the Saviors. Only together can we hope to see this done. Will Alexandria and the other trade partners stand with us?"

"I'll go to Rick," Morgan announced. "Let him know what's going on. I'll bring him back here so we can get a plan together. Maybe bring Jesus along so that Hilltop can be included." He gestured to where Carol stood, red eyed and silent, with her arms folded across her stomach. "Carol will stay here for now. She can help with planning and with organizing your weapons. Best to know what we have on hand so we know what we're gonna need going forward." He waited for Ezekiel's nod before heading off to gather his things. Ezekiel left soon after, taking the tiger with him back to his quarters.

Dwight studied the small woman, wondering at change in her. She didn't look like someone capable of threatening a man and then carrying it out without so much a by your leave. He didn't doubt for a second that she would have killed him had something not stayed her hand. Daryl. That's what stopped her. He shrugged off the vest and silently offered it to her, noticing how her hands trembled when she took it. "I'll get him out," he offered lamely.

"You're the reason he's there in the first place," she returned, her fingers white where they gripped the smooth leather. "He tried to help you and that's how you repaid him." She shook her head and turned away, blinking back tears. "I thought I couldn't kill again but if he dies, I will kill you. I swear it. No matter how long it takes."

"I guess we understand each other then," Dwight observed. "It's why I'm here. So that I can save my wife."

To his surprise, a small smile blossomed on her small, pale face. It made her beautiful. "Oh, we understand each other all right. That we do."


End file.
